


Hideouts

by ReplicaJoelle



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, psic, pumpkin spice ice cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 18:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11213643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReplicaJoelle/pseuds/ReplicaJoelle
Summary: Day 6 of PSIC Week (Roman/Neo) http://pumpkinspiceicecream.tumblr.com/post/161247265257Various hideouts Roman and Neo have been to.





	Hideouts

Dim, boring, drab, small. Unfortunately these words would describe every hideout they've chosen, the complete opposite of the lavish lifestyle they wished to live. They've bounced between musty motels, old warehouses, the backseat of a car, and wherever they can gather a moment of rest. It couldn't be helped. There were only so many places a wanted criminal could hide. Those usually involved places with people whose silence could be bought and the seediest corners of Remnant. Staying in the same place for too long would only lead to trouble, especially with a large target on their backs. A target not only placed by police, but other rival organizations.

 

…

 

The clock ticked persistently in the motel room where two criminals laid on the bed. They had spent the past three nights in a bad part of town. At least twice they woke to gunshots. The third shot was the man's own when they were interrupted by drunk thugs arguing in the hallway. All the motel staff needed was a rather large tip and the body disappeared.

 

They waited for a phone call. The call that would give them news about a new partnership with the White Fang. He had doubts about partnering with this woman's faction already. Inviting the White Fang seemed like a mistake. He had no choice but to accept. He already benefited from his current deal, there was no backing out because of some Faunus extremists.

 

As long as they could get what they were promised, they would grin and bear it for as long as they had to.

 

...

 

A certain criminal, whose wanted posters could be see all over Vale, was hiding deep underground with his pretty little partner. Literally underground. The White Fang had joined his own faction to cause a little mayhem and preparations were well underway. Sleeping in an old train car wasn't quite ideal, but it beat the week they spent crammed in a shipping container on the docks. The smell of fish and sweat lingered for much too long after.

 

It had been two weeks since he had seen the light of day. It never agreed with his complexion anyway. The only things that kept him sane were cigars and his girl. Though she was just as busy. Sometimes she'd be gone for days a time but always returned with a present. Half of them were actually for herself but occasionally she would return with a nice bottle of whiskey and his favorite cigars. They would stay up late and she would listen to his complaints about the work he was unappreciated for, the stupidity of the White Fang, or even how his eyeliner just wouldn't work that day. She would silently giggle and nod and he would understand without a word from her.

 

No matter how rough things got she was always there for him. Likewise, he would always support her, even through her silence.

 

...

 

The very school they were targeting was quite a change in hideouts for the tri-colored woman who had changed to black. She was left alone often, as her companions blended with the other students. She was warned to hold back during the tournaments at Beacon Academy. It frustrated her not to be able to kill such pathetic weaklings, but she understood that it was all part of the plan. She kept herself busy by honing her skills and preparing for the upcoming missions.

 

She knew she was an outcast compared to the other three she had infiltrated the school with. They didn't trust her partner so they wouldn't have any reason to trust her. She had assumed his role after his planned arrest, something she protested. She had her suspicions about if his arrest was really part of the plan or if they just wanted him out of the way. It had already been two weeks, far too long for them to be apart. She was growing impatient. But she did as she was told. It was what he would have wanted.

 

He said that soon they would have everything they wanted. No more hideouts, no more White Fang, no more following orders.

 

…

 

The next hideout wasn't planned. None of it was in their plan. Hiding in the wreckage of a battlefield where Grimm laid waste to everything in sight was never what they wanted. The woman had roamed the ruins, searching for any sign of the man she was separated from. The night was filled with the sound of gunfire, the crackling of fire, and the roaring of Grimm. Exhausted had caused her to duck into what remained of a building until she regained her strength. So far she had found no trace of the man she had only been briefly reunited with. Sore, cold, and running low on dust ammunition, she had no choice but to rest.

 

…

 

Shortly after she was hiding out in the back of a bar. Emotionally and physically drained, but relieved. They were reunited again... almost. He had not awoken in the past few days after was pulled from the wreckage of an airship. His injuries were extensive. He would live but she didn't know at what cost. Physically or even financially. They were no longer any use to their former allies, as they learned from being abandoned on the battlefield.

 

...

 

This place would be their last hideout. It was at least nicer than any other hideout before it. It was still boring compared to what they had survived, but it was theirs. A small piece of Remnant were no one knew their names or faces. Not that they even used those names anymore. All anyone knew was a charming man with a scarred smiling face and his petite and quiet wife. They ran a small ice cream parlor with an apartment above, bought with the lien they had saved.

 

It wasn't the lavish lifestyle they had dreamed of, but it was better than being dead or being ordered around by people who had no respect for their work. They didn't have to wonder where they'd be sleeping tomorrow or if they'd be shot.

 

They still found children annoying, but their parents at least had money to make up for it.

 

It was a pretty good hideout.


End file.
